Free Caught in the Flames by Kacey Shea Page A

exhausted after three days straight at the station and decided to head home and crash. I would have loved to see him, but I know he needs his rest.
    The only downfall is that on top of working around his firefighting schedule, my company is piloting a new work week, four ten-hour shifts and three-day weekends. Supposedly it’s an attempt to boost employee morale, which I couldn’t care less about because I ended up working four fourteen-hour days and that meant no sexy Chase time.
    This weekend Chase works Friday and Saturday again but I refuse to wait until Sunday to see him. So even though I rushed home tonight to change and beautify myself all the while fighting exhaustion from a long week, I’m glad we’re not waiting one more day to see each other. Sure, I’m tired, but sleep can wait. I’m taking that boy to funky town.
    We’ve talked and texted all week and I know he’s aware of what’s on the table. I made it pretty clear apart from spelling it out. I only hope he doesn’t disappoint in the bedroom. I doubt he could, but my expectations are high. I’ve piled them up with every date, phone call, text, smile, laugh, and sweet word he’s said. That, and I’ve felt his very impressive erection during numerous make out sessions. High expectations for sure.
    The doorbell rings and I race to the door after a five second pit stop in the bathroom doorway to triple check my hair and makeup. Good enough. I step through the hallway and exhale deeply before unlocking the door to reveal Chase’s handsome face.
    “Hi,” I whisper.
    “Hi,” he says back.
    We stare at each other for about two breaths until Chase steps forward. His hands go to my hips and he backs us inside the house. The door bangs shut but I hardly notice because his lips cover mine with a demanding, unbridled passion. He’s possessive, dominate, and scorching with his kisses.
    “Chase.” I moan his name between the graze of his lips. He hauls me into his arms and I straddle his waist, locking my feet behind him. He walks us to the wall, but must not be paying attention because my head hits the plastered surface with a bang, and the wooden edge of something digs into my scalp.
    “Fuck!” Ouch, that hurt.
    The portrait of me with my father at my high school graduation clatters to the hardwood floor and glass shatters everywhere.
    “Shit. I’m sorry, Callie.” Chase steps over the mess and walks us toward the living room.
    “It’s fine, I’ll just—”
    Chase kisses the words from my lips and I try to forget there’s clutter in my entryway. Honest to God I do, but when he starts kissing down my neck, sets me on the counter ledge, and his fingers go to the buttons of my blouse I have to stop him. I can’t make love to this gorgeous beast of a man when there’s glass all over my floor.
    “Wait—” I push him back from my body and hop down from the counter. He allows me space but his hands brace against the counter ledge and cage me in.
    “Callie?” Chase narrows his gaze and his lower lip juts out slightly. Is he pouting? “I’m sorry, Callie. I just thought . . . When you invited me over . . . I—have you changed your mind? Should I go?” He steps back and I grab his arm.
    “No!” I all but shout. Oh, God, why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I ignore the mess and get lost in Chase? I can’t, though. I crave order, and as much as I try I can’t focus on anything knowing a disaster of glass is scattered in the other room. I drop my head and cover my face. “This is so embarrassing.”
    “What, are you on your period or something?” I peek through my fingers and find Chase’s brow furrowed in confusion. Why is he so adorable?
    I grin. “No, not that. I just can’t continue with this.” I motion between us. “Knowing there’s that.” I point down the offending hallway. “Stupid, right?”
    Chase laughs his booming laugh. “No, Callie. Quirky maybe, but not stupid. Where’s your broom? Let me clean it